


Just Fine

by karl_jenkins



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 23:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21382021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karl_jenkins/pseuds/karl_jenkins
Summary: The aftermath of a Gang night out.
Relationships: Polly Chapman/Yann Fredericks
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	Just Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slightalbus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightalbus/gifts).

> Totally did mean to finish this in time for Kat's birthday but better late than never? 
> 
> Love you Kat. X

Yann, Polly and Karl burst through the door of their flat in a chaotic tangle of limbs, laughing at the top of their lungs. Karl collapsed on the sofa and promptly fell fast asleep. “How does he do that?” Yann wondered aloud, watching him snoring away, mere seconds after lying down. “Yesssss!” Polly cheered triumphantly from the kitchen, brandishing a bottle of vodka. “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka,” Yann admonished gently, pulling the bottle out of her hand. “Firewhisky then!” Polly yelled, producing a bottle of Ogden’s from Merlin knows where. This set into motion a five-minute wrestling match as Yann kept confiscating various spirits only for her to find more. She had far too many hiding places.

“I’m too sober for this,” Yann grumbled as they rolled around on the kitchen floor, Polly giggling as she held yet another bottle of firewhisky out of his reach. “Then perhaps it’s you that needs a drink,” she replied, thrusting the bottle into his hands. He gave up and rolled back into a sitting position, bottle clutched in his hand. “We’ve been drinking all night,” he said, but he unscrewed the lid and took a mouthful of firewhisky all the same. He screwed up his face at the burning sensation as it went down his throat.

“Yann,” Polly said, suddenly extremely serious. She pulled herself up onto her knees and sat in front of him, her hands clasping onto each side of his face to make him look into her eyes, “it’s our last week of freedom! We should be enjoying it!” He had to admit, this was true. The following Monday would mark the start of their new careers; Polly would be working for the Ministry in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Karl had got himself a broom designing apprenticeship with Nimbus, and Yann was going to be interning with Ginny Potter at the Daily Prophet.

“So, you mean to tell me,” Yann said with a smirk, “that once we’re working, you’ll no longer drink during the week?” Polly looked like he’d suggested she was going to dance naked in a knarl enclosure. “How dare you suggest such a thing?” Polly asked, voice dripping with mock offence, “I just won’t drink quite as much.” That sounded more like the Polly he knew. Yann took another mouthful of firewhisky with a smirk. “So, what do you suggest we do with our last day-long bender of freedom?”

“Let’s have sex,” Polly said, launching herself forwards to kiss him and missing his mouth by an inch. He grabbed her hands as they reached towards his belt and pulled backwards. “You’re definitely too drunk for that,” he said, making her pout like a sulky child, “and on the kitchen floor with Karl asleep just over there on the sofa is not exactly my idea of romance.” Polly scoffed, “Who said anything about  _ romance _ ? And anyway, Karl can sleep through anything. Jasper Kirk told me he didn’t even stir that time that Peeves blew up that barrel at the entrance to their common room.” 

“Well if you won’t have sex with me, you can at least dance with me,” Polly insisted, yanking Yann to his feet roughly and pointing her wand over at the speakers. Before he really knew what was happening, Yann was dancing manically to Mr Brightside, screaming lyrics between mouthfuls of firewhisky, while Karl slept through it like a rock. Their mad dancing session ended when they collapsed to the floor several songs later, panting for breath. Yann flicked his wand to the speakers to turn the music down to a more background level of noise. Polly was eyeing Karl with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Want to play Karl buckaroo?”

They had managed to balance most of the things in their living room and the contents of one kitchen cupboard on top of Karl before he finally awoke just as Polly was about to levitate the microwave down on top of the pile. Karl sat up with a start, upending most of their belongings onto the floor. Yann swore as a potted plant landed on his foot and dirt spilled everywhere and Polly was almost knocked over as books cascaded against her legs. The microwave wobbled precariously in mid-air but thankfully stayed afloat.

“What have you been doing?!” Karl demanded, looking at the chaos around him. Polly levitated the microwave back to its rightful place then lazily flicked her wand at the mess, sending most of it back into its usual places. Yann was privately jealous of how good she was at household spells, especially while she was still so drunk. “Karl buckaroo,” she replied casually, “no idea how you slept through it.” Karl laughed good-naturedly. “Brilliant. Sleeping is perhaps my greatest talent. Oi, give me some of that!” he made a childish grabby-hands motion at the firewhisky bottle which Yann threw at him then collapsed beside him on the sofa.

Polly curled up in the armchair and summoned over another bottle and three glasses. Karl had to duck as one of the glasses almost crashed into the side of his head. “What next?” she pondered. “Have you played would you rather yet?” Karl asked. That was a classic from their Hogwarts parties, though over time it had developed into their own version “who’d you rather?” Yann shook his head, “Not yet.” Karl whooped gleefully. “Brilliant, I’ll go first,” he replied enthusiastically. After a moment of thought, he looked triumphant, “Who’d you rather: Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy?” Yann almost spat out his drink. “You’re asking which of our friends’ dads we’d rather shag?” Karl looked utterly triumphant.

“Pfft, that’s easy,” Polly said, “Draco. Next!” Karl looked slightly crestfallen, he’d obviously expected that one to be a more difficult decision. “Really Polly?" said Yann in surprise "you wouldn’t go for a bit of boy-who-lived action?” Polly rolled her eyes. “Yann, just because you have a hard-on for the entire Potter family doesn’t mean we all do.” Karl roared with laughter. “You can laugh, Karl, but it was you that didn’t shower for a week after Harry signed your stomach! I had to wrestle you into the shower,” Yann teased.

“Just look at Draco’s hair,” Polly ploughed on, “judging by how well he looks after his hair, imagine what’s under his clothes…” Karl snorted. “You dirty bitch.” Polly just flashed him a winning smile and looked as if she was going to continue her train of thought. “I’m not sure I want to hear where that thought is going,” Yann said, only half joking. Karl looked at him like he’d cancelled Quidditch. “Well,  _ I  _ do!” he insisted, leaning closer to Polly who stuck her tongue out triumphantly at Yann and proceeded to explain a very specific fantasy in almost excruciating detail. By the end of it, Karl was gazing at her with a look of mingled disgust and respect.

The game continued, Polly giving more and more outlandish answers each time until eventually she tried to make them choose between raging homophobes Lucas Price and Oscar McLaggen who had been in their year at Hogwarts. Karl and Yann both refused to choose and the game fizzled out. "Can't believe you'd sleep with Professor Selwyn," Yann said, thinking back to the eccentric muggle studies teacher who only wore confusing muggle ensembles that looked completely out of place. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you," Karl teased in a singsong voice, sipping his drink. Yann shot him a glare as Polly rolled her eyes. "It's always the quiet ones," she said, flipping her blonde hair back over her shoulder "I think he'd be a very generous lover." Karl spat out his firewhisky.

Polly, bored now that their game was over, climbed awkwardly out of her chair and squeezed into the tiny gap between Yann and Karl, wriggling to make them make more room for her. "Have I ever told you both how much I love you?" she said, attempting to wrap her arms around each of their necks. "Oh bloody hell, you  _ are _ drunk," Karl replied, swigging his drink with a smirk. She hit him playfully on the arm and pouted. "Stop being mean! I'm trying to be  _ nice _ ." 

"I suppose there is a first time for everything," Karl sniped back. Polly shrieked and launched herself at Karl. They wrestled playfully, Polly trying to tickle Karl into submission. Yann was squished at the other end of the sofa trying to avoid being kicked in the face. Polly and Karl eventually dissolved into giggles and sat back normally, breathing hard and both slightly more bruised than they expected from a playfight. Polly took Yann's hand and then Karl's and they sat, hand in hand and quiet, all knowing that they wouldn't want to be anywhere else with anyone else in that moment.

Eventually, Karl passed out again, and started to snore loudly. Polly threw her cushion at him then climbed up into Yann’s lap on the sofa. “Oh, you’ve reached clingy Polly on the Chapman drunk-scale,” he teased, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. She shushed him but still nestled down with her head against his neck. Yann rested his cheek on top of her head and tightened his grip on her.

“Hey, Polly,” Yann said, “how are you feeling about next week?” Polly groaned. “You can’t seriously want to talk about work right now?” she grumbled into his neck. “Well,” Yann replied, “we’re about to undergo some big cha-” Polly cut him off by kissing him. Yann cheered inwardly; his plan had worked.

“Yann,” Polly said, pulling away abruptly and suddenly serious again. “Hmm?” Yann hummed back, stroking her hair back out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear, admiring the angle of her jaw, the delicate tilt of her chin. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. “Yann,” she paused, looking like she was carefully considering her words, “please don’t get bored of me.” Yann almost laughed but her gaze was fixed on him so seriously that he couldn’t. “Bored of you? Never.”

She was unconvinced. “We’re going to have to be proper adults now. Work and pay rent and grow up.” Her eyes were wide and vulnerable and Yann was worried she was going to cry. "Polly, you are the most exciting girl in the world. Watching paint dry with you would be exciting. I can't wait to work and pay rent and grow up with you." She buried her face in his neck and he felt tears seeping into his shirt. He hoped they were at least happy tears.

"I wish Craig was here," Polly whispered "it was meant to be the four of us against the world." Yann squeezed her tighter. "I know," he whispered, pressing a kiss against her hair. They sat like that for a long time, Polly snuggled into Yann's arms as he gently stroked her hair and waited for her to drop off to sleep, her breathing gradually getting deeper and deeper.

When Polly at last fell asleep, Yann lifted her into his arms and carried her down the hallway to their bedroom, nearly tripping on her discarded heels. He placed her gently down on the bed and tucked her in, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “You always look after me,” she muttered sleepily, “I love you.” Yann smiled, stroking her hair fondly. “I love you too.”

He knew that if he left the living room in the state that it was in, he’d regret it when they all woke up feeling like they’d been clubbed by a troll. Stumbling back into the living room, the combination of firewhisky and tiredness really starting to hit him, he flicked his wand to group the empty bottles to take out to the recycling tomorrow. He then cleaned up the dirt from the upended plants and mopped up everything that looked like it might stain, knowing that Polly could have done a far better job even in her drunken state. Finally, he threw a blanket over Karl and automatically kissed his forehead like he had for Polly.

Yann giggled to himself as he swayed back down the hallway to his bedroom. As soon as he’d climbed into bed, Polly wrapped her legs around his and clung to him like a koala. He looked down at her as she slept, soft and peaceful. She usually used her acerbic wit and resting bitch face as her armour, but she couldn’t hide her true self when she was sleeping. Her huge heart with such capacity for love that it frightened her, her fears of rejection and getting hurt. He hoped that one day she’d finally see herself how he did and feel confident enough to show that soft side of her to the world.

Yann’s thoughts drifted towards next week, when they’d all be starting their new jobs. It felt like the end of an era, like childhood was suddenly over and they were being thrust into the world of adulthood and responsibility with no instructions. He was excited and terrified in equal measure. He stroked Polly’s hair absentmindedly and glanced down at her peaceful face, the corners of her mouth turned up in the slightest hint of a smile. The sight made his heart swell with love and he knew then that whatever the future held for him, as long as he had Polly by his side, he’d be just fine.

  
  
  



End file.
